


The Elephant in the Living Room

by biswholocked



Series: JWP 2015 [15]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Community: watsons_woes, Gen, John's Childhood, Past Child Abuse, Sherlock Holmes and Feelings, Sherlock Learns About John's Childhood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 13:43:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4351016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biswholocked/pseuds/biswholocked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The atmosphere of the room shifts, almost too quickly for Sherlock to catch it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Elephant in the Living Room

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day fifteen of JWP. The prompt was to include some kind of adage/ old saying. Warning for discussion/ mentions of past child abuse.
> 
> Title comes from a quote: “There's a phrase, 'the elephant in the living room', which purports to describe what it's like to live with a drug addict, an alcoholic, an abuser."

“ابن الوزّ عوّام,” Sherlock murmurs, watching Lestrade with their suspect through the glass. David Royce, twenty two years of age. Aggravated assault, leading to murder. The mirror of his father, seventeen years before. His head is shaved and he speaks to Lestrade with obvious belligerence, trying to intimidate his way out. (Pointless, of course. They have his prints, his DNA, and he has nothing.)

John looks at him questioningly; Sherlock answers as Royce widens his legs, leans forward in his chair, lifts his chin. (Feigning dominance: boring.)

“An Egyptian sentiment. ‘The son of a goose is a swimmer’.”

John follows his gaze and regards Royce thoughtfully. “Like father, like son.”

“Put simply, yes. We emulate the behaviour of those who raise us. Psychology also has an expression for it: ‘the abused becomes the abuser’.”

The atmosphere of the room shifts, almost too quickly for Sherlock to catch it; John clenches his jaw and his fingers automatically curl. Anger. But why? John brushes past him for the door, breaks free from Sherlock’s hold around his wrist. The sound of it clicking shut behind him makes Sherlock’s stomach twist unpleasantly.

He follows. (Of course he does.) John’s already in the lift but Sherlock slips in just as the doors are closing, leaving them alone in a box, headed for the ground floor. Sherlock slams the emergency shutoff button; the lights go dark.

John reaches for the button. Sherlock intercepts his hand and holds on this time when John struggles.

“Sherlock,” John warns.

“Why anger?” Sherlock demands, ignoring the rope of tension in John’s tone. “You’re a doctor, you had to have seen the saying rings true. So why--” Sherlock cuts himself off and looks, really _looks_ , and sees it, in the tightness around John’s eyes and the curve of his shoulders. “Oh.” Stupid, stupid, _stupid_. It’s clear now, of course.

“Sometimes the adage is wrong,” John says lowly, and smiles, but it twists where it shouldn’t and comes out a grimace, tinged with bitterness. He reaches again for the button; Sherlock lets him, and a moment later the lift lurches and continues on.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/ con crit always welcome!


End file.
